


My Safest Sounds

by IlanaNight



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlanaNight/pseuds/IlanaNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love with your best friend is easy. Having that love ripped out of your hands when you need it most is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Worlds Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I've fallen deep into hell and here we are. ( this chapter is a prologue and thus they are small but for the rest of the fic they will not be )
> 
> also: fun fact. i did the math for the heelys mentioned later in this fic and Joshua Washington spent, at the age of 8, $1105 on Heelys. In the span of three weeks.
> 
> and a side note: this whole chapter was written while IHeartSnuffles changed EVERY INSTANCE of Joshua's name to 'Washua Joshington' and I then had to change it back.

Joshua Washington was the coolest kid in the third grade. No matter how often they changed seats, he was always in the back, as if the teachers somehow knew that if they placed him anywhere, he would end up trading his way back anyway. It was where he belonged, and he was well aware of that fact.

 

The whole school had stories to tell of Joshua Washington, some with awe and some with disdain, depending on who you happened to ask.

 

Joshua Washington, for example, only _ever_ came to school in Heelys. From what Chris could tell, this had been the case for quite some time, since at least the beginning of the second grade. And he used them in only the most proper of ways. ‘Most proper’ being rolling his way down the halls at top speed, cackling the whole time as students and teachers alike rushed to get out of his way.

 

Halfway through the year, the administration had banned Heelys. Any student found using them in their ‘proper’ way was asked to remove the wheels, or risk losing the shoes themselves.

 

Joshua Washington lost seventeen pairs of Heelys to the main office before they gave in. They stocked an entirely closet in the office, each box labeled with his name, the date, and a description of the confiscated goods. Aside from the dates, each label was the same.

 

_Joshua Washington_   
_January 12th, 2003_   
_Blue ‘Heely’ Sneakers with white accents._   
_Wheels still attached._   
_To be returned at end of year._

 

No matter how many pairs they confiscated, though, the brunet child returned with a new pair the next day, a grin on his face as he continued his daily routine of rolling his way to class and the playground. In the end, Joshua’s persistence won out, the teachers gave up asking for his shoes and he was allowed to roll without question.

 

It was the talk of the school for weeks on end and Joshua Washington ate it up.

 

In stark contrast, Christopher Fleiss was invisible. Ask anyone and they wouldn’t even know if he went to their school, let alone if he was in their class. He stuck to his GameBoy at lunch and recess, much more interested in the newest Pokemon game than anything anyone else had to say. And it meant that he didn’t have to deal with the little arguments nearly every group of friends got into on a weekly basis, a new friend in and an old friend out.

 

His Pokemon were much more loyal than that.

 

By choice and by necessity of his near-blindness, the blond was always seated at the front of the classroom. Despite his glasses, nearly every teacher he’d ever had was certain that he couldn’t see, with or without them, and thus he ended up front and center each time. Not that he minded of course, it was easiest to focus in the front and no one around him tried to pull him into conversations that detracted from the lessons.

 

Christopher Fleiss could not be any farther from Joshua Washington in any sense, they were polar opposites, of that Chris was certain.

 

And perhaps that was why the teacher chose to move Chris when Joshua’s usual seat mate became too rambunctious for his own good.

 

A shriek from the back of the room interrupted the teacher’s lesson on the continents of the world, every student turning to watch as the boy yanked at the braids of the girl seated in front of him, tears in her eyes.

 

That was the last straw, it seemed, as the boy was told to move and swap seats with none other than Chris. A scowl crossed the boy’s face and he looked to Joshua as if expecting the brunet to defend him, but Joshua just shrugged.

 

“Told ya not to, man. Not my fault.”

 

And with that, Chris lost his place at the front of the room and instead found himself seated right next to Joshua Washington, a place he knew a dozen people would fight to be put in. But all he cared about was the fact that he’d have to listen twice as hard to hear the teacher now, and likely be the victim of dozens of snide jokes at the brunet’s hands.

 

He was an easy target for someone as cool as Joshua Washington, after all.

 

Settling into the chair with mild anxiety, he put his folder on the little table, careful not to cross the invisible center line and risk encroaching on Joshua’s space. The last thing he wanted was the most popular kid in his grade hating him.

 

Of all the outcomes he’d expected from this, what happened next was not among them.

 

“Tell me, do you evolve your starters, or do you let them learn all the special moves and leave them as their original forms?”

 

Blinking slowly, Chris looked to the left and to the right, confused as to who was talking, and to _whom,_ but when his searching eyes met mischievous green, his questions were answered, though none of his confusion subsided.

 

Was _Joshua Washington_ talking to _him_ about **_Pokemon?_**

 

So shocked was Chris at the revelation that he didn’t even comprehend the question, let alone make an attempt to answer it, and Joshua waved a hand in front of his face, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Yo, can you hear me, bro?”

 

Stuttering, Chris ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip, “S-sorry. I didn’t know you… you were talking to me. I-I uh… I usually evolve them because I like seeing them grow up. And I gotta fill out my Pokedex, y’know? Most of the starters only _you_ get to see, so if you wanna get a full Pokedex, you gotta let ‘em grow up.”

 

Joshua frowned for a moment, confused at the first reaction, but the explanation was deemed acceptable, the brunet nodding with an expression of put-upon wisdom. “I see. I always pegged you for a ‘secret weapon’ type, to keep your Pokemon all in their original forms and then have them use the _best moves ever_ and watch as everyone freaked out.”

 

Despite himself, Chris grinned and shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t need surprise attacks to beat _anyone_ at Pokemon, man. I’m the _master!”_

 

A short laugh spilled forth from Joshua’s lips before the brunet took out his Gameboy and set it on his desk with determination, “I’m gonna take you up on that, dude. That title’s gonna be _mine_ by the time we’re done.”

 

Never one to turn down a challenge, Chris reached into his own backpack and held out his own Gameboy with a smirk, “Is that a challenge I hear? Because as Pokemon Master, I must accept all challenges and _beat you.”_

 

“You bet it’s a challenge, man. I’m gonna be the _best there ever was.”_ White teeth flashed from behind Joshua’s lips and Chris couldn’t help but return the grin, putting his hand out to Josh.

 

“Today. Lunch hour. Under the tree in the middle of the blacktop. And I, Master Chris, will show you the ways of the Champion!”

 

Joshua’s hand clasped his and shook it sharply, a smirk on his face, “Keep telling yourself that, Chris, because come this afternoon, I’ll be _Master_ Josh to you!”

 

After a moment of seriousness, they devolved into giggles that had to be shushed not once, not twice, but _thrice_ by the teacher, an expression of exasperation on her face.

 

Maybe Josh Washington _wasn’t_ so different from Christopher Fleiss, after all.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


 


	2. A Game Fit for a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Josh had bad nights. Sometimes he just had nights where he needed to be reminded that he was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait between things, i was struck by a vicious plague, then midterms and opening weekend

Josh spent a lot of time staring at the ceiling.

 

It was a habit he’d picked up shortly after what his parents still referred to as The Incident, and what his therapist gently reminded him was a childhood psychotic break. There hadn’t been much to look at in that hospital room for the week he was there, and the ceiling had just been the most interesting thing.

 

Six years later and he still found the ceiling interesting.

 

The moon was reaching her peak in the night sky outside of his window, the stars dulled and hidden by the light that washed up from the Washington manor and the city at the bottom of the hill below them. He could never see the stars here, some days he wasn’t sure they even existed.

 

Some days he wasn’t sure _he_ existed.

 

Slim fingers reached across his bed to pick his phone up from the bedside table, pulling it close and checking the time. 12:37. Not horrendously late this time, at least. Fingers moving quickly across the screen, he typed up a quick message and sent it, letting his phone rest on his chest,

 

To: Christopher Robin

You down to play some Mario Kart?

 

The question itself was innocuous enough, but Chris knew him well enough to understand the meaning behind it. Chris was the only person outside of his family who would understand the subtext and know what to do. And at half past midnight, Josh would rather text his best friend than wake his sisters and worry them.

 

Chris worried too, of course, but he’d accept the video games as a treatment. Hannah and Beth would treat him like a porcelain doll.

 

He was pulled from his thoughts, a frown on his face, by his phone vibrating against the fabric of his shirt. Picking it up, the frown was instantly replaced by the smallest of smiles.

 

From: Christopher Robin

I’m down to KICK YOUR ASS bro. I’ll be over in ten. Prepare yourself.

 

That smile lingered as he typed out a response, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, motivated at last to look at something other than the ceiling.

 

To: Christopher Robin  
idk man. I’ve been practicing. Might surprise u.

 

On quiet bare feet, Josh made his way out of his room and down the hall. Chris had a key to the front door and would let himself in rather than knocking, but Josh still needed to set up the Wii if they wanted to actually get any gaming in before they inevitably ended up watching B movies until they fell asleep.

 

His parents had given Chris a key about a year ago, after one too many complaints from Hannah and Beth about doorbells and rocks thrown at windows in the night. He chuckled softly at the memory, his sisters’ words still emblazoned in his mind.

 

“Tell your Romeo he needs to work on his aim, he keeps throwing rocks at the wrong window and _I_ certainly don’t want to stand out on a balcony and listen to him sing.”

 

“Just marry him already and have him move in. Easier on all of us.”

 

But underneath the humour, there was a heat in his cheeks and a nervous clench in his stomach. The feelings were dismissed and pushed away as Josh started up the Wii and set out the steering wheel controllers, on on each of the bean bag chairs at the foot of the couch in the game room. Now wasn’t the time to be wallowing in yet another of his many miseries, his thoughts were distant enough as it is.

 

No need to darken his mood by dwelling on his unrequited love for his closest and truest friend.

 

Just as the soft music of the Wii was beginning to fade into just another background noise to Josh’s buzzing thoughts, there was a curse and a series of stumbling steps from the hallway. Josh realised, belatedly, that he’d forgotten to turn the lights on, and Chris could be clumsy even under the best conditions.

 

“You invite me over to play Mario Kart or to kill me, bro? Almost died on the way in, what do you _keep_ in that _hallway?”_

 

A laugh ripped its way past Josh’s throat as he tossed himself down onto the red bean bag chair, patting the blue one with his foot, “Oh you know. The usual. Dead bodies. Vats of nuclear waste. My sisters’ shoes. C’mon man, stop stalling and accept your fate. Tonight, you lose the title of Mario Kart King!”

 

For a moment, Josh thought Chris was going to comment on his nonchalant list of horrors, but the threat to his precious gaming title was enough to get the blond past that topic. Chris flopped down beside him and picked up his controller and conversation was forgone in favour of hissed curses and fists pumping the air in glee.

 

Seven rounds of racing later and Josh was forced to concede the title to Chris yet again, getting up from his chair to grab the worn, beaten up cardboard crown from a shelf beside the television. It no longer fit either of them and it had certainly seen better days, but it was tradition. As best as he could, Josh placed the cardboard crown atop Chris’s head before kneeling and bowing his head.

 

“I accept my defeat. You remain, for tonight, the Mario Kart King.”

 

Chris’s hand came down to pat each of his shoulders before resting on his head as Josh looked back up, green eyes meeting amused blue, “It is a title I wear with pride, and with it comes great responsibility. Someday, dear prince, you will be good enough to be King. But for now, I will guard your crown.”

 

At this hour, the once-formal speech devolved into laughter as Chris ruffled Josh’s hair and shoved at him, just enough to have Josh rocking back before spitefully falling forward and knocking Chris from his bean bag throne. The two of them landed in a heap of tangled limbs and potential bruises, laughing as quietly as they could manage.

 

“You know, kings are generally older than princes. I think your reasoning is flawed.”

 

“Age has nothing to do with it, bro. It’s all about skill. That’s how the Mario Kartdom works, man, you just can’t question it.”

 

Josh had to sit up on his elbows to look at Chris’s face and from this position, he could see just how proud the blond looked. Self-confidence looked good on Chris. Josh would accept defeat a thousand times if it meant seeing that face every time, it was rare that Chris looked so self assured.

 

Realising that he’d been staring, Josh quickly found a means to extricate himself from their half-embrace and muscle his way onto the couch, patting the space beside him as he reached for the remote, “Well, great king, I think your first decree should concern what we’ll be watching tonight.

 

An emotion Josh couldn’t discern flickered across Chris’s face for a fraction of a second before it was replaced with a grin, the blond slowly sitting up and cracking his back with an exaggerated expression of pain, “Next time, tackle the King onto a softer surface, alright, bro? You’re aging me beyond my years with all this knocking me around.”

 

“Duly noted, Your Majesty. Your next tumble will take place on a soft featherbed, satisfaction guaranteed.” Josh gave a mock salute, internally cursing himself for the all-too-obvious double entendre of his statement but keeping the friendly smile despite it all.

 

“That’s kinda gay, bro.”

 

The words held no venom and no real meaning, Josh knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that they cut into his stomach like a thousand little daggers, clawing up his insides as he grinned and shifted to give Chris more room on the couch, “No homo.”

 

And god if those words didn’t taste like ashes, didn’t sound like his own heart’s death warrant, spoken with cheerful camaraderie.

 

It never mattered how much space Josh left on the couch, Chris was always quick to sit right beside him and throw an arm over the back of the sofa, their knees bumping. Josh wasn’t sure if it was just habit from when they were kids or the blond had some special vendetta against his lovesick heart, but either way, it had his face flushing, thankfully invisible in the low light. Nevertheless, he did nothing to put any more distance between them, settling into the couch and watching as Chris flipped through the near-endless list of possibilities on Netflix.

 

There was no point, really. He knew from experience that by the time he finally passed out, he’d be lying half across Chris’s lap with the blond’s hand in his hair. It just happened that way, and Josh couldn’t recall a better night’s rest than one spent with his best friend so close to him.

 

Something about the blond quieted the voices in his head and dismissed his delusions, brought him back down to earth, to himself. Some part of Josh’s head, broken and distorted as everything was, had decided Chris was _real_ and that made all the difference. Because if Chris was real and Chris could see him, could touch him, could talk to him, then _he_ must be real too.

 

The conclusion brought with it a peace only Chris’s presence could inspire as the blond selected their horrid romantic comedy of the evening, the emptiness that had been gnawing at Josh earlier all but forgotten.

 

And if he curled a little closer into Chris and threw the blond a few more glances than usual throughout the movie, who was going to mention it?  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my son, josh, is a very gay. and so am i.


	3. Joshua fucking Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In retrospect, it's really awful falling in love with your best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took forever and i'm sorry school ate my life

There were, Chris decided, worse things than waking up to Joshua Washington peacefully asleep, head in his lap.

Granted, there were better things too. He could be in a bed, for one thing, sans the kinks in his neck and back. But he’d resigned himself to this fate last night when he’d decided not to move, not to suggest crashing in one of the guest rooms, or at the very least finding some other arrangement on the couch.

Instead, he had simply drifted off to sleep somewhere in the third movie on autoplay via Josh’s Netflix account, some time after the brunet himself had curled up, head atop Chris’s thigh as he slumbered. It was worth it, not jostling his friend. Josh didn’t sleep nearly as often as he needed to, and when he did, it was rarely this peaceful.

There had been no abrupt awakenings, no shouts or screams or blunt nails digging into his skin. None of the tell-tale signs of Josh’s usual night terrors. And that made waking up with a few kinks in his neck and sunlight filtering in through the windows more than worth it.

It wasn’t much longer before a patter of feet on stairs told him that at least one of the twins was awake. Hannah darted through the game room, barefoot and still wearing her pyjamas, though she paused when she caught sight of the two on the couch, a little smile on her face.

Before she could comment, Chris put a finger to his lips and pointed down at Josh. Hannah was just as concerned for her brother as Chris was, if not more, so she simply nodded and left, presumably to make herself breakfast. Chris knew he’d catch hell for it later, though, the twins always liked to press him about his relationship with Josh.

It was really hard to pretend you _weren’t_ in love with your best friend when his sisters constantly insinuated that you were. And the fact that Josh was unusually affectionate when it came to Chris certainly didn’t help matters.

Chris knew it meant nothing, not in a romantic sense anyway. Joshua trusted him because they’d been friends for years, and that trust made the older boy more comfortable with him. It was that level of comfortability that made Joshua affectionate, since he was starved of affection in so many other relationships. Going off what Hannah and Beth had told him, he was the only person aside from them who Joshua really let in, and who had been there for Josh through his ordeal a few years back.

There was little Chris remembered from elementary school, but one of those things was the week when Josh had simply disappeared. He’d seemed a little out of it on Monday, and then Tuesday he was gone, no phone calls, no explanation. Chris had asked the teacher, but she wouldn’t tell him anything, and when he called Josh’s house, there had been no answer.

Back then, all he’d been told was that Josh had gotten sick and needed to be taken to the hospital. It wasn’t until high school that Josh had told him the full truth, sitting cross legged on his bed and staring at the pill bottle in his hands.

“I thought my own parents were gonna kill me, man. In my head. Couldn’t look them in the eye for weeks afterwards, even when the delusions went away.” Josh’s voice had been conversational, it always was when he was talking about things like this- as if he were talking about the weather and not something that was tearing him apart at the seams. “Bet you that’s why they’re never around anymore. Don’t want to come home to the son who still sees monsters in the closet.”

Chris hadn’t known what to say then, and he wouldn’t know what to say now if Josh ever brought it up- not that the brunet ever did, of course- but he’d reached out and pulled Josh into a hug, patting his back.

“Don’t worry, bro, I’ll always be here. Scout’s honour.”

The little salute he’d given Josh broke the brunet out of his thoughts that day, a laugh spilling past thin lips, and that was the day Chris had vowed to do everything in his power to make sure Josh spent more time laughing than staring off into space. It was a task easier said than done for certain.

Lost in his thoughts, Chris was only drawn back to the present by the soft groan that left Josh’s lips as the older boy sat up. Josh was quick to grab the back of the couch and twist his spine from side to side, releasing a series of pops as the joints cracked, much to Chris’s chagrin.

“Bro, you’re gonna break your back doing that some day, don’t make me _witness_ that.”

Josh snorted, flipping the blond off before rolling his neck and letting out a sigh as the joints popped there too, presumably releasing a good deal of tension, “Then you’ll just have to carry me around everywhere, Cochise. Doesn’t seem like too bad of a deal to me.”

The words were accompanied by a wink and a clicked finger gun that Chris knew to be near-signature for Josh at this point, causing the blond to roll his eyes and shake his head, “You wish. I’ll just leave you on the ground, man. I can’t afford to carry you around all the time, you know how hard that would be?”

Some voice at the back of Chris’s head whispered that it really wouldn’t be hard at all, Josh weighed very little, but that was a worry for another day.

“C’mon bro, you know you wouldn’t. You love me too much to just watch me suffer.”

Oh, if Josh only knew how true that statement was, he’d likely be running now instead of simply standing up and stretching his arms over his head, the action causing his shirt to ride up just enough to expose the strip of olive skin between the hem and the waistline of his pyjama bottoms… which Chris made a point not to look at, not even for a moment. Nor did he react when Josh let out a low moan, rubbing at a kink in his shoulder with a displeased expression on his face before rolling his shoulders again, trying to dislodge the tension and muttering under his breath, something about replacing the couch with a futon.

“Whatever man, just don’t break your back and we won’t have to worry about it.”

Josh’s retort- and Chris could see it coming from the expression on his best friend’s face- was cut off by Hannah’s voice from the kitchen, “You two gonna keep bickering like a married couple or are you gonna come in here and eat these leftover pancakes before I toss them?”

“We’re not getting married unless Chris here grows some balls and pops the question, sis, so I guess I’ll come and have some pancakes.” And that was all the response Josh bothered to give before grabbing his hoodie from where it was draped over the couch and threw it on over his pyjamas before wandering into the kitchen, seemingly unaware of how his statement left Chris sputtering on the couch.

Of all the people in the world, he had to be in love with _Joshua fucking Washington._

With a groan, Chris ran his hands over his face, mussing up his hair and sighing into his hands, elbows on his knees. Why was everything so _difficult_ these days, why did Josh have to look so damn _kissable_ when he was being a smart-ass, why did he _think that_ every time?

The last thing Chris wanted to do was risk losing Josh’s friendship. The brunet had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, and he couldn’t let this crush or whatever it was ruin that, not when Josh needed him to be there.

It made Chris’s blood run cold, thinking of what could happen to Josh if he didn’t have anyone to turn to, didn’t have someone to come over in the dead of night to play Mario Kart until his demons let him be. He couldn’t leave Josh alone to deal with that, couldn’t risk ruining everything just because he was in love.

He’d seen plenty of failed relationships, plenty of promises to remain friends before they inevitably drifted apart, and he couldn’t bear to consider that end for his friendship with Josh.

Shaking himself free of the dark thoughts, Chris ran his hands through his hair one last time before standing up and wincing at the joints that popped and groaned in response. If Josh did decide to get that futon, he certainly wouldn’t complain, he was _far too young_ to be waking up with back pains from sleeping sitting upright.

With a stretch and another sigh, Chris followed Josh into the kitchen, taking the empty stool beside the brunet at the breakfast bar, across from where Hannah was leaning against the counter and taking a bite out of an apple, her plate already in the sink.

_“Damn_ bro, look at your _hair._ If I didn’t know better I’d say you just got laid with that hairdo. Too bad I do know better.” Hannah rolled her eyes at her brother’s antics and slid the last plate of pancakes over to Chris while the oldest Washington sibling laughed into his food, clearly amused by her quip.

At least this shift of focus meant Josh missed the red that coloured the tops of Chris’s cheeks, and likely his ears too, if the burn he felt meant anything.

“Nah, I did something better than get laid, bro. I kicked your ass at Mario Kart and got to watch you admit defeat.”

“Sounds kinda gay, bro.”

Hiding his forced smile in a bite of pancakes, Chris shoved at Josh with his elbow, just enough to throw the older boy off balance for a second, “No homo, bro. You know that.”

And maybe it was his imagination, maybe it was just because Josh was trying to keep from falling off the stool, but Chris was almost certain he saw a grimace on the brunet’s face before Josh’s trademark smile covered it up.

“Yeah, bro. Of course. No homo.” Abruptly, as if he’d just realised something, Josh stood from his stool and put the pancake he had left untouched back on the stack, much to his sister’s chagrin, if the reprimanding smack was any indicator, “Sorry, not hungry. Give it to Beth, alright sis? I’m gonna go change.”

And with that, Josh was gone, stopping to ruffle Chris’ hair on the way out with a bit of hesitation, as if he needed to think it through before acting on the impulse. Blue eyes flickered up to catch a moment’s glimpse of Josh’s expression before the boy was gone, and Chris couldn’t say he was happy with what he saw there.

Josh had looked… lost.

Once the brunet’s footsteps had faded away up the stairs, Hannah put her hands on her hips and sighed, “What was that about?”

Still staring out the window, Chris shook his head and bit his lip, concern etched in his features, “I wish I knew, Han. I wish I knew.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you ever wanna hit me up, my tumblr is ilananight <3


End file.
